Just a Bit of a Freak Out
by sylphie3000
Summary: A certain ball's coming up, and Kali Lavellan isn't exactly taking it well. Really, it's a crying (sorry) shame that the Commander doesn't know how to deal with anything other than work, or this whole situation could've been averted, or at least less dramatic.


"Kali, stop pacing. You're driving me mad," Cullen said, not looking up from his report. It was something about the Hissing Wastes -they needed the Inquisitor, and badly. Between the recent Venatori news, and the mad, brisk _tap_ _tap tap_ of the Lady Inquisitor's shoes, he was beginning to get a new addition to his near-constant headache. The Lyrium, or lack thereof, did not help.

Abruptly, the tapping stopped, and Cullen breathed a sigh of relief. And then, another of exasperation when it started again, the same beat of _tap-one-two, tap-one-two, tap-one-two-three, and pivot._ it had been this pattern, this incessant sound, for a sodding hour. An _hour_.

Maker's breath.

"Kali, _please_. Can you stop-" he sighed, finally looking up at her, running a hand through his thick blonde hair. Andraste, she was frightened, her already-large elven eyes even wider, hair a mess, breathing uneven. Cullen stood, perhaps too fast, immediately concerned. "Whats wrong?" he asked, panicked.

"What if…" she started, and then stopped. She was breathing too fast to talk, her chest rising and falling far faster than it ever should.

He walked over to her and smoothed her hair, trying to calm her. It was obvious she needed to talk, and he, ever the fool, had been too involved with reports and the goings-on of Skyhold to spare the time. Granted, she had just told him she needed a break, not that she was going to break down in the middle of his office. Still, he should have been more attentive, not so absorbed. Another blunder, another mistake; Andraste's ass, would he ever get this right?

"Kali, calm down. Take a deep breath," he mimicked his own instructions, and she followed suit, forcing herself back to reality.

"Cullen, what if they don't -" another deep breath, "what if they don't like me?"

"What if _who_ doesn't like you?" he asked, bewildered.

"The Orlesian Court. The ball's in _two weeks_, and I know next to nothing about Orlais, or how to dance, or how to dress, and they're all _shemlen, _for Creator's sakes! I can't go to court with _shems_, and _especially_ not the shems that destroyed my culture! I'm an _elf_. And _Dalish_, of all things. I'm not supposed to go to court anywhere, much less Orlais! If I can't pull this off, Cullen, the Inquisition is done. Over. Everything we've worked for, all the support we've gained, for _nothing_. I-" she broke off into a sob, burying herself in his chest as best she could with his armor on. "I can't do it. I _can't_."

He pushed her back and tipped head up, forcing her to meet his eyes. "First off," he said, his voice stern, "why wouldn't they like you? You're one of the most charming women I've ever met. You're strong, you're pretty, and you can actually smile, unlike most Orlesian nobles I've met. They'll have to like you, or Cassandra and Leliana will have them drawn and quartered." He was speaking nothing but the truth. There had only been one woman that could even come close to her, but… well, she was gone.

Kali's sobs had quieted a bit, reduced to wet sniffles that made her feel completely different than anything else he had ever gotten from her. Passionate, yes. Intelligent? Of course. She was the brave, fearless leader that for some reason had chosen him, of all people. Never once had she felt _vulnerable_. Never.

"Are you sure?" she asked, her voice child-like.

"Of course. You, of all people, know that Josephine would sooner impale herself on the horns of a dragon than let you walk into that ball unprepared," he said, voice low, as he smoothed her hair again. She pulled back, smiled a little. Her eyes were slightly red, her face flushed. She looked a lot less worried than before, but stress still showed around her eyes.

"You promise?"

He smiled and kissed her softly. "I promise."

"Good," she said, chuckling, and kissed his cheek. "Because when we _do_ get to the ball, you owe me a dance, Ser Knight." Her laugh, brilliant and cocky, bounced around his office as she sauntered out the door, all traces of worry hidden once again.


End file.
